


Growing Pains

by ionlywritefree



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Autistic!Yuuri, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Support Systems, Yurio is fine he's just very confused about his emotions and how they connect with his diagnosis, anxiety tw?, autistic shutdown, autistic!Viktor, autistic!Yurio, i think my writing has improved a lot!, internalized ableism, just in case, set after the gpf, viktor and yuuri help their local autistic youth, yes everyone is autistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 00:51:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15473871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlywritefree/pseuds/ionlywritefree
Summary: He was on top of the world- No wonder it was so hard to breathe. (Growing up is hard. Growing up not understanding your own brain is even harder.)





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> I find it difficult to write Yurio's character properly, so I decided to challenge myself by....writing more about him. Apologies if this is ooc.
> 
> (I've decided to call Yuri P 'Yurio' instead of 'Yuri' because my brain makes it hard for me to tell 'Yuri' and 'Yuuri' apart. Sorry if it's weird. :/ Also this is the last time Yurio will be hurting in one of my works, I swear! This is for one of my friends who shuts down in a similar way to Yurio. They asked me to write this. They were actually my beta too. Blame them!)

Yuri Plisetsky made history. Fifteen years old and a Grand Prix Final gold medal around his neck. Standing at the top of the podium (back straight, shoulders pulled backwards, stomach tucked in, stand _still_ damn it), he felt untouchable. He also felt completely wiped out.

Yurio always felt tired after competitions, any skater would, really. But this was different. He could tell as soon as he stepped off of the ice, blinking the blurriness away from his vision and his heart pounding in his ears. Tugging on the sleeve of his costume, Yurio wondered if it were always so tight and constricting. The lights were unusually bright, too. Everything was off, so Yurio considered it a miracle that he actually managed to stay on his feet for the entire performance. Adrenaline really packed a punch, he guessed.

When he was greeted with thundering applause, a huge score, and his coaches gasping and grabbing his arms as if they needed something to ground them, everything still seemed hazy. Like a dream. Almost too good to be true. He held his medal up to show the screaming crowd, posing for pictures left and right as the flashes made his vision spotty (smile wide, make eye contact, _stop flinching_ ). He was on top of the world- no wonder it was so hard to breathe.

Minutes or hours past. (It was almost two hours.) Yurio shook off the paparazzi and ended up in the bathroom, gold medal stuffed carefully in his bag. (It was oddly heavier than any other medal he had won before. Was that normal?)

The mirror was smudged and cracked in the top right corner. There was a puddle of water next to the sink, and on the floor. But the general uncleanliness of the bathroom didn't stop Yurio from leaning all of his weight against the counter and turning on the tap, splashing water on his face. It was lukewarm, rolling down his cheeks and neck down to his costume. Now it looked like he was crying worse than before, even though he didn't feel particularly emotional anymore. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy, not really looking at anything... except his own dazed reflection. Despite all the hairspray he applied before he skated, his braid was barely holding on and the ponytail was putting up a fight to stay in place. To top it all off, his face had flushed out any color that would make him pass as a living human being. He barely recognized himself.

Yurio was just tired. No, Yurio was _exhausted_.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting on the floor under the sink, the puddle of water dangerously close. Yurio wasn't completely clueless anymore, he knew what this weird exhaustion connected to. He got the diagnosis a few month ago. He wasn't sure how to react, really. It's not like it changed any part of him, it just made him hyperaware of the things that made him different. Little things, like the way he squirms when he's hugged. Then there are the big things, like this.

Grandfather compares him to a computer when this happens. He's lagging, logged off, switched off. He's overworked, overwhelmed, and he needs a break.

Yurio found himself lying down. He was curled into a fetal position, his cheek pressed against the cold tile floor. His brain was screaming at him to get up, but his body would not respond. This feeling was familiar, but this reaction was so extreme it was as if he had reached a whole new level of dysfunction he never had before.

How could his grandfather have compared him to a computer? Computers are quick, powerful, smart. They can speak multiple languages fluently and translate his own poor human speech into legible text. If computers shut down every time they got overloaded, they would get replaced or thrown away. No one wanted a lagging computer.

Yurio had to remind himself that he was a person, not a computer. He didn't want to drag himself too far out of reality, or he may be here all night until some moron finds his body and uselessly calls an ambulance.

As if on cue, Yurio's heart skipped a beat as he heard voices, getting louder and louder. He barely had any time to react (not that he could have, anyway) before the door swung open.

It was Viktor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki. Of course. They just had to see him at his weakest. Yurio could already feel the heat rising in his face. He heard Yuuri's muffled voice telling some sort of joke, and Viktor proceeding to laugh his ass off with his fiance. Okay, this was definitely going to be awkward in about one second-

"Yurio? What's wrong?"

Here it is. The most awkward moment of his life, and it was these two who were playing a key role in it. He shouldn't even be surprised at this point.

Yuuri was instantly kneeling next to him, staring with concern. Viktor was more hesitant, looking down at Yurio as if he were a complex math equation. Yurio would give them his gold medal if they would leave and pretend this never happened.

Yuuri's dark brown eyes were wide with panic. "Oh my god, Yurio, what happened? Are you hurt? Do we need to call an ambulance? Viktor, get out your phone. Actually, I'll use mine, you go get Yakov and-"

"Yuuri," Viktor interrupted calmly, his voice as devoid of emotion as humanly possible for him. "Put down the phone."

Yuuri did not let go of his cell phone, but he did hesitate. "What is it?"

"I've seen him like this before. Multiple times. I don't think he needs medical attention."

"Really?" Yuuri peered down at Yurio as if he were an injured puppy, and Yurio felt his face grow hot. "Is he usually laying on the floor?"

"No, but he gets that look on his face," Viktor responded, pointing at him. "His eyes are glassy, and his mouth is partly open. None of us at the rink really knew why. It's worrying, but he usually comes to in a few minutes."

If Yurio had the energy to move right now, he would have kicked him. This was humiliating. Is his mouth really open, too? He hadn't even noticed. Viktor not only had a selective memory when it came to embarrassing moments of his fellow skaters, but a big mouth. What was he doing, discussing his weaknesses with so many people, including his rival? This was outright sabotage. Despite how uncomfortable it would make Yurio, he needed to snap out of it. He needed to move or speak or _something_ before Yuuri knew too much.

Yurio's mouth was indeed open. He tried to say something, but nothing came out. Yuuri frowned. "We don't know for sure what's going on, Viktor. This could be more serious, we should really call-"

As much as Yurio wanted to ignore any and all consequences by being unresponsive, he really didn't want a hospital trip. No matter how much it hurt, he had to force himself to speak.

"No." He choked on the word, it sounded grainy like sand in his throat, but it made Yuuri and Viktor stop and look at him. Yurio hated the pitying stares. He wasn't dying or anything. "D-don't call. 'M fine."

Yuuri wouldn't stop staring at him. "Can you speak? Can you tell us what happened?"

Yurio wanted to make a snide remark, like 'of course I can speak, you just heard me', but ironically, he couldn't find the words. "Nothing. 'M just tired."

Yuuri and Viktor exchanged some sort of look. Yuuri's eyebrow raised and Viktor tilted his head slightly. Then the phone in Yuuri's hand slipped, falling to the ground with a sharp _clack_.

Yuuri and Viktor exchanged some sort of look. Yuuri's eyebrow raised and Viktor tilted his head slightly. Then the phone in Yuuri's hand slipped, falling to the ground with a sharp clack.

Yurio's heart leaped and he flinched, his body suddenely regaining the energy to instinctively cover his ears with his hands. "Shut up," he grumbled, fully aware that he probably sounded and looked ridiculous.

"Are you sure you're just tired?" Viktor asked, swiping Yuuri's phone off the floor. "You know you can tell us anything, right?"

"Did something happen, Yurio? Do you need help? Are you sick?" Not pausing between his questions, Yuuri then turned to his fiance. "We saw him out there just a few minutes ago. What could've happened in a few minutes? Did someone say something to him? Do we have to get-"

Yuuri's panic was giving Yurio a headache. He needed to defuse the situation or he was done for (more done than he already was). "Stop it."

The two adults stared at him. Okay. He had their attention. Now it was time to give them a rational understandable explanation of why they found him laying on a dirty bathroom floor, barely responsive.

This may be harder than he thought.

"I..." Yurio swallowed whatever pride was left in his betrayal of a body. "I just... I'm just tired, okay? No one said anything. Leave me alone and I'll be fine."

Yuuri seemed to ignore the last part, and proceeded to dump ten more questions on him. "How much did you sleep last night? Are you dizzy? Do you feel nauseous? Did you throw up? Did you eat today? Are you dehydrated? Hold on, I think I have something in my bag..."

Viktor held out his fiance's bag as Yuuri dug through it with the intensity of a hacker in a dumb sci-fi movie. Yurio's stomach churned at the mere thought of being nauseous and throwing up, but at least he was coherent enough to speak up again. "No, I'm fine. I don't need-"

A second later, a bottle of water was being shoved in his face. He flinched again, resisting the urge to shove it aside. He had a gut feeling that they wouldn't leave his side unless he drank it. Slowly finding the strength (and nervousness) rushing through him, he pushed himself up with his arms into a sitting position. Yuuri reached out, as if he was going to try to help in some way, but Viktor took his hand in his, preventing Yurio from being touched. If Yurio wasn't annoyed at him right now he may have felt thankful.

Snatching the bottle out of his hands, Yurio dramatically rolled his eyes as he took a sip of water. Those two were completely overreacting. Making a big deal out of nothing. See, he was okay now. He was drinking water. Like a normal, healthy person who was okay. Okay?

"Yuri, you know why we're concerned, right? I know you say you're only tired, but you look like you just passed out." Viktor's voice was devoid of any emotion whatsoever. It was sort of unnerving, that voice. Viktor was usually so animated that Yurio could always guess what he was feeling. But now it was as if Viktor was purposely hiding himself from not only Yurio, but also Yuuri. Someone had to be calm in this uncomfortable situation, he guessed.

Yurio debated how much he should share. They already knew about his diagnosis (Viktor wasn't the only one at the rink with a big mouth). So should he just dismiss it as an 'autistic thing' so they'd leave him alone? But he wasn't the only one who was autistic. In fact, everyone in this bathroom shared that one thing in common... it connected them in a sort of way that was hard for others to understand. Yurio couldn't even understand it sometimes. Just like he couldn't fully understand why he suddenly lost the ability to speak the second he escaped the media, why the constant activity kept him on his toes for hours until he was hit with the uncontrollable urge to lie down in a bathroom of all places.

Would Viktor and Yuuri understand?

Being a teenager, Yurio's 'adults could never understand' mindset ruled supreme. People many years his senior always gave him problems, underestimated him, treated him like a baby or a burden. As much as Viktor and Yuuri annoyed him, though, they seemed to like him. Despite snubbing them most of the time, they gave him support like they would any other competitor. Plus, if anyone had the possibility of understanding the way his brain worked, they would.

Keeping his eyes glued to the floor, Yurio took a deep breath. "Okay, I may be a bit more than tired."

For once the two adults didn't speak. They just nodded in sync, silently encouraging Yurio to continue talking. He did. "Uh, there's a lot of people... out there... And they ask me everything at once. They're all screaming and they all have cameras and I can't stand still so I have to do it all over again and-" Yurio paused to take a deep breath. "I know I should be used to it. But I can't help it."

"Oh, Yurio," Yuuri sighed, "Of course you're overwhelmed. You're getting so much publicity at such a young age. That's normal."

Yurio's face scrunched up into something ugly. Finally, he felt the familiar flame of fury burning inside him. Anger was an easy emotion to identify, and it didn't connect to a diagnosis. "No, it's not. No one does this. I never used to do this. I was never this..."

What word was he going to use? Weak? Abnormal? Whatever it was, it slipped away from his vocabulary. "I used to just tough it out and I'd be fine. I never needed people to help me. I don't need you two acting like you have to babysit me or something."

Viktor opened his mouth, but Yurio quickly interrupted him, using his most sarcastic voice yet so his point would hit him hard. "And thanks for talking about my weaknesses with everyone at the rink. I'm sure they'll take me seriously now."

There was so much to unpack from Yurio's declarations that Viktor and Yuuri didn't even know where to start. Viktor, using his more serious approach, sat down in front of Yurio to get himself more on his level. "Yurio, we were worried about you. No one thought you were weak. I used to do worrying things at the rink too, believe me. Remember when that boy spilled his energy drink on my head and I cut off all my hair?"

Despite being very young, Yurio could vaguely recall stumbling across Viktor drenched in blue in the changing room, a pair of scissors in his hand and long chunks of grey hair around him. He was crying, roughly scrubbing his skin with wet paper towels, and hadn't even noticed when Yurio curiously asked him what was wrong. Yurio couldn't remember if he had told someone about Viktor or if someone had stumbled across him themself, but Viktor ended up leaving early. Yurio had asked a trainer why Viktor was crying.

"He's more sensitive to things than other people, Yuri," they had told him, "It wouldn't feel too good to have that gross stuff all over you, right? Some feelings are just too much for him to control."

Yurio nodded. Juice was sticky, although he was still unsure why he reacted so strongly... until Viktor came into the rink the next day with a new haircut. He was barely recognizable. Yet Viktor acted like nothing had happened. The sudden change was overwhelming, and when Viktor cheerfully greeted Yurio and ruffled his blonde hair, he had yelled something incoherent and avoided the older rinkmate for the rest of the day.

Feelings really were complicated. And uncontrollable. Strong. Every word that was thrown around as a half-assed explanation to avoid further conversation. Yurio was tired of not understanding emotions, most of all his own.

"Yeah," Yurio mumbled. "I remember. You were a mess."

"I was, wasn't I? A lot of people thought it was strange. But they come around. I know trusting others with things like this is hard, but it's worth it. And accommodations don't have to be visible to everyone at the rink. Whatever you need, I know people that can help."

"You shouldn't have to 'tough it out' yourself," Yuuri added, "I understand that you don't want to be seen as weak. Some people may think asking for help makes you weak, but you're only human. Surrounding yourself with people who know that will help you realize having different needs doesn't mean you don't deserve them."

Yurio fiddled at the hem on his jacket. Yuuri continued. "I know it's easier said than done. You have to present yourself a certain way to fit in. Trying to please everyone is exhausting, no wonder you're feeling this way."

That made him nod in timid agreement. Viktor and Yuuri looked at eachother, as if confirming they were on the right track with soothing him. Yurio's eyes burned, and he scrunched up his nose in a sloppy attempt to stop himself from ruining his image even more. Viktor and Yuuri may talk a lot of fluff, but this whole conversation was probably altering their opinion of him. He was determined not to cry after being shown a little compassion.

"Being fifteen and autistic is hard," Viktor said, his voice so sincere that Yurio knew it was all over.

"It _is_ hard," he cried, furiously rubbing his eyes. Yuuri dug through his bag again before unveiling the poodle tissue box and handing it to him. Yurio grabbed it, stroking the fluffy brown fabric with one hand and cleaning up his face with the other.

He could tell how much those two wanted to hug him, to comfort him physically. But thankfully they gave him his space as he pulled himself together. The exhaustion was gone. Apart from feeling a bit gross from crying, he seemed to be 'normal' again. Not dazed, confused, or unable to speak. Just like that, it was all over. If Viktor and Yuuri didn't find him, he could've just went through this little crisis by himself and no one would've been the wiser.

Yurio hated to admit it, but he wasn't fully convinced anymore that it would've been better that way.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Yuuri said, breaking the silence.

"It's unavoidable at this point, isn't it?"

"Well, it sounds like you got overloaded and you came in here to recover. Did you have a shutdown or a meltdown, or does this happen every time you're overwhelmed?"

"If this happened every time I got overwhelmed I'd start to blend in with the carpet," Yurio joked. After looking at Viktor and Yuuri's identical shocked faces then made him realize that type of humor may not have been the best choice to subtly get his point across. "Uh, no. I guess it's one of the other things you said."

"Do you know what a shutdown or meltdown is?" When Yurio didn't respond right away, Viktor continued. "They're both reactions to overstimulation, but a meltdown is more external. Screaming and crying and stimming. A shutdown is mostly internal, making it hard to function."

"Uh... shutdown, I guess." Saying that out loud felt weird. Having a name for what he would occasionally get hit with these past years felt weird. "I don't know. Does it count if I was fine the whole time until I left?"

"Of course. That's just your body reacting to all the stress. Probably wondering what you just made it go through."

"Okay..." Yurio mumbled, unsure how to put his feelings into words. "So, uh, maybe I wasn't feeling completely fine. I mean, I got through it, obviously, even though it was a pain in my ass. But I should be used to it by now."

Yurio talked like a broken record, Viktor noticed, remembering how he had said he 'should be used to it' multiple times. "Some days are better than others. Sensory-wise or mood-wise or whatever. I promise that's normal. Even I have bad days, and I'm twenty-eight. _Ancient_ as you like to tell me."

That got a little smile out of Yurio. Yuuri lightly clapped his hands together. "Well, not to jump to conclusions, but I think the pressure of passing as neurotypical is stressing you out. Since your popularity really increased the last few years, you've probably been trying to act neurotypical more often. That may be why you feel that you're becoming 'more sensitive'. You're dealing with way more sensory input than you used to."

Yurio hated how that actually made sense.

"Once you start to accept your differences and act more like yourself, you will start to feel better."

Act more like himself? As in, act more autistic? In front of everyone? As Yurio snorted, Viktor jumped in. "I know it's easy for us to talk like this. When you get older, you stop caring as much about what other people think."

So the only way his insecurities would lessen would be life experience and maturity. That was dissapointing.

"Like I said before, accommodations are good. Asking for help is a good step forward."

Those two were looking at him expectantly, and he huffed. "Fine. I know that I need help. But I don't want to ask anyone at the rink yet. No one needs to know. I've gotten this far without any accommodations, I can handle it a bit longer."

Yurio could practically hear the disappointment without even looking at them. Before they could say anything else, he gave them some hope. "Just give me some time, okay?"

This seemed to break some of the tension in the room. "It's your decision. Just trust us when we say it helps a lot."

Yurio nodded slowly, knowing fully well that he couldn't keep on the down low forever, especially with Viktor and Yuuri now aware of the unpleasant side of his sensory sensitivity. As much as he wanted to brush everything under the carpet, things were going to change... for the better, hopefully, like Viktor and Yuuri said it would. Of course it wouldn't be easy, but as Yurio pet the poodle tissue box, at least he knew he had support from the two world-famous figure skaters that were, in their own ways, just like him.

**Author's Note:**

> So I started thinking about Yurio's character, and how he acts all emotionally distant and untouchable, but he secretly cares just as much as any insecure fifteen year old. Since he's autistic in this, I wanted to show a bit more of his "I can't show too much emotions other than confidence and anger because I don't want people to talk down to me; therefore I can't show any signs that I'm autistic either because people think autism is a weakness only little kids get" mindset.
> 
> This made me think that what Yurio really needs is an autistic friend closer to his own age so his teenage mindset can be understood, but has enough experience to be unapologetically autistic, being someone Yurio can look up to. Then I remembered otabek exists! He can be a role model. I wish he had more of a personality so he'd be easier to write or else Id have wrote something about them by now haha.
> 
> Feel free to send me requests


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